


Starburst

by hanthelibrarian



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Eddie Kaspbrak, Adult Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Adult Richie Tozier, Body Image, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie hates his scar, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Canon, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24147958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanthelibrarian/pseuds/hanthelibrarian
Summary: Eddie finds himself staring at the scar on his chest, a gift from IT. His plastic surgeon has done his best to minimize the scarring but it's still huge and looks like it's consuming his whole chest. Richie finds him like that, eyes wild and hands clutching his chest.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	Starburst

**Author's Note:**

> This was a result of prompt 47 from [this list](https://eddiekraspbak.tumblr.com/post/617863552804536320/prompt-list-2). You can find this on my [tumblr](https://eddiekraspbak.tumblr.com) as well. Feel free to send me prompts!

Eddie was standing in front of the mirror in their en suite bathroom, hands gripping the t-shirt he had worn to bed the night before. He slowly tugged the shirt over his head and a wave of nausea hit him as his eyes locked onto the starburst scar on his chest. His fingers brushed against the edge of the scar, drawing light circles around it. Before all of this, before he was skewered on IT’s claw like a marshmallow on a stick, he was ticklish here. Now, thanks to the nerve damage and multiple surgeries, he could barely feel his fingers where they dug into his skin, trying to force feeling back into the mutilated area.

Sighing, Eddie grabs the bottle of lotion that his dermatologist recommended to keep his scar tissue healthy. The nausea flares up again and grows stronger the longer he has to look at his chest. His eyes unfocus and he simply goes through the motions, trying not to linger too long on the thoughts that float through his mind but he can’t help it. _Ugly_ , he thinks. _Disgusting, dirty, mangled_. He can almost feel IT’s claw wiggling in his chest, trying to break loose from the confines of his skin. Later, he’ll realize that the tightness and wriggling feeling were the beginnings of a panic attack but right now, he’s too upset to think rationally. His breathing is shallow, his fingers digging rougher, deeper, into his scar and he doesn’t even wince when his nails break skin. He’s leaning over the sink, staring at the spot on his chest where he swears he can see IT’s claw, can see death itself taunting him, beckoning him.

“Hey, babe, have you seen my-“ Richie bursts into the bathroom, hair ruffled from tossing in his sleep. He’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, slung low on his hips, with his left hand inside the waistband and scratching himself. He comes to a stop when he sees Eddie’s fingernails digging into his chest, sees the look of horror and shame in Eddie’s eyes. “ _Eds_ ,” he says softly, reaching out to take his boyfriend’s hands. Eddie lets him, knowing somewhere deep down that he shouldn’t fight this.

Eddie can hear Richie asking him if he’s okay, if he wants to talk about it, but he can’t answer. He’s wheezing and for the first time since he and Richie got together, he wishes he had his inhaler, despite not having asthma. He must be talking, saying something, because Richie looks like he’s been slapped. Richie’s grabbing his face now, forcing him to look into his eyes, wet with the beginnings of tears.

“Don’t say that, Eddie,” Richie says and Eddie can’t even remember what he had said. He goes to say that but all that comes out is a strangled whine. “You aren’t disgusting. You never have been and you aren’t now. Nothing that fucking alien clown bastard did to you can change that.”

He’s shaking harder now and Richie pulls him into his arms, holding him as tight as he can without hurting him. Eddie mumbles something into Richie’s shoulder and at first he thinks that he didn’t hear him. He pulls back and looks up, eyes not meeting Richie’s. “I’m ugly, Rich. This scar, i-it’s all I can see and I’ve seen you staring at it too.” His voice is small, his throat tight from crying, something that he hadn’t noticed he’d been doing until just now.

Richie’s face hardens, a touch of embarrassment and shame in his eyes. He takes a deep breath and says, “Okay, but consider this: I don’t care.” Eddie blinks at him, confused. Richie runs his fingers over the scar that covers the majority of his boyfriend’s chest. “I don’t care that you have this scar, I don’t care that it’s big and scary. I don’t care. Because you know what? This scar represents the fact that you _lived_. You lived, Eds, you lived through a fucking horrific thing. You’re alive, here in my arms, and that’s something that almost didn’t happen. So yeah, I don’t care, not when I get to wake up next to you, see your fucking doe eyes looking at me like I invented the- the fucking world or something.” Richie’s crying now, not making a sound and Eddie honestly wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t looking into Richie’s eyes. He’s struck with the knowledge that Richie really, truly does not care about his scar. Sure, he’s caught him looking at it a few times but, he realizes as he’s thinking back, that it wasn’t disgust that he had seen in Richie’s eyes; it was love.

“I’m sorry, Richie, I-“ Richie cuts him off, hushing him as he kisses his nose. They stand like that for a few minutes, just holding each other, and slowly Eddie feels the panic and shame leave his body. Not completely, he knows he won’t be able to look at his chest and not feel that panic and shame for quite a while but it’s gone for now and he’s just happy that he gets to hold Richie like this, that he gets to be held by Richie like this. Soon, however, he remembers that they have responsibilities to attend to and he pulls away.

“What were you asking me earlier?”

“Hm?” Richie looks confused for a moment but then a light flashes in his eyes. “Oh yeah, I was wondering if you knew where my glasses were.”

Eddie laughs, a chest-deep, belly-bursting laugh. He reaches his hands up into Richie’s tangled mop of hair and pulls out his glasses. “You mean, these glasses? The ones that were on your head?” Richie looks at his glasses in Eddie’s hands then up to Eddie. “Huh, guess I need a haircut.” They both laugh as Richie puts his glasses on and brushes his hair out of his eyes. Eddie stands on his tiptoes to kiss him, still laughing, the scar on his chest and the disgust he feels toward a distant memory now.


End file.
